DAI: The Beginnings of a Champion
by N7PhoenixFox
Summary: An old piece of writing. A warrior Lavellan, inspired by a warrior Mahariel meets the Hero of Riverdane and the Champion of Kirkwall during her quest in Crestwood. Banter and memories of the past included.


**An old piece I thought I'd publish; Orophin, when she was a warrior and romanced Solas. A male Hawke with Fenris, and Loghain as the warden. My warden was also a warrior for this one.**

 **My writing has changed so much in a year! So please realise this is old, and has some mistakes.**

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They'd battled through the undead who's bodies were rotten and water logged, sealed a huge breach under the sea and fought a rage demon which rose to the roof of a cavern.

It had been a horrendous day, to say the least but the sun appeared from behind the petulant clouds which clutched at the skies over Crestwood - as if they had weeped for the people the Mayor had condemned and only now depleted as the dead could finally be laid to rest.

They'd crossed the land as their clothes dried, and Lavellan raised her face to the sun. Her armour chafed beneath the metal, but her legs stayed strong.

The wardens were searching for Hawke's friend, and since they'd just cleared the way, they had rushed in the direction of the smugglers cave only to encounter Red Templars.

By the time they reached the cave, Lavellan walked straight through the door with the skull on, and had seemingly almost forgotten the name Hawke had given her upon the battlements.

The screech of metal, and she turned. Her hand twitched for her sword, but she kept it down when she saw the warden with his sword raised. Dark hair, lined and aged face with eyes the colour of a cold glacier.

Loghain Mac Tir. She'd heard tales of him, even with her clan being far north in the free marches. Everyone had heard the story of the Hero of Fereldan, a Dalish elf like herself and how she had spared the Hero of Riverdane in a duel at the lands meet.

They spoke of the Wardens, and she asked him if he was THE Loghain. Somehow, he seemed more mellow than she imaged the former General. Not that it diminished the things he said. If anything, he weighed his words and not one was wasted.

"We should head to Adamament. That it where my brethren should be," he informed them finally.

Lavellan shook her head slowly, which caught his attention. "There are wardens scattered all along this cost, Warden Loghain. I think it would be best if both you and Hawke returned with us to Skyhold before continuing your journey. You're less likely to be caught while leaving the area that way."

He measured her, and her words while Hawke also thought about it. Then the Champion smiled. Lavellan looked to them, "Rest and restock. I can't argue with that, and you are correct, Inquisitor. We would be best to avoid the scouting wardens before we are ready to face them."

Lavellan nodded at his approval, then shifted her gaze to Loghain who had watched the exchange. "I believe that would be satisfactory, though we must head for the Western Approach as soon as possible."

"Of course," she smiled, a little.

Varric threw his hands in the air from where he stood beside Hawke. A loyal bodyguard, even though the huge lightening Mage was entirely dangerous himself. "You might regret that, Oro before the day is done. Letting Hawke anywhere near that tavern will end in nothing short of chaos." But there was a smile to his voice, and Varric seemed pleased to get to spend some time with his friend.

Lavellan smiled widened slightly as she looked to her dwarves companion. "Do not pretend you would not encourage trouble, Varric."

"I'll try to behaviour," Hawke gave her a wink, and a large grin. His eyes were still troubled however, which she hoped some time around the chargers would help lessen, at least for a short while.

She chuckled lightly, and lifted her hand to her sword hilt in habit. Just to check it was there, and she wasn't defenceless. "Let us be going then."

Her grey eyes turned back to the once hero, "are you ready to leave, Warden Loghain?"

"Yes, though we best hurry if my brothers in arms are scanning the paths for my person." He seemed to have collected a small bag of belongings, and threw it over his shoulder.

She took the lead as they left the cave. "Varric," she called back, to find the dwarf walking in front of the Champion. Hawke seemed to be amused at something he'd said. Warden Loghain moved behind them, and squinted as he looked out into the daylight. His hand came to cover his eyes. She wondered how long he'd been in the cave. They would certainly have to feed him when they return to Skyhold. It was rumoured that Wardens ate more than most. Which was unsurprising, if they had to sustain themselves and the taint.

"Yes, my lovely warrior?" He intoned. They both knew it was a light hearted joke. He only had eyes for one woman, but seemingly cared for his friends enough to warrant the occasional harmless flirt.

She was sure Hawke did it all the time to him.

"Scout ahead," she informed him, showing no sign that she'd heard his words.

"I'd hardly say he's stealthy," Dorian pipped up, the usual sheen of mischief in his eye.

"What was that Sparkler? I'll have you know I've snuck up on many who intended to jab you with the pointy end of a blade. I didn't hear any complaints then."

"He's clever, and small, and a dwarf," Hawke pipped up. His white eyes danced in the sun beams. They were certainly an arresting colour. "That's the perfect combination."

"Why thank you Hawke," Varric's voice raised with a laugh.

"That doesn't make all dwarves sneaky," Dorian pointed out. "No, far too many trip over their own beards!"

"Very funny, Sparkler. Just because you're jealous of the chest hair," Varric waved a hand as if that illustrated his point.

"Ah yes," Dorian fluttered his hands, as if often did when he talked. "Because a man is defined by his hairiness," there was dry humour there.

"How did we get from stealth to chest hair?" Lavellan thought out loud, glancing back at the group. They seemed surprised she'd joined in. "Wait, never mind. The conversation always falls back to Varric's chest hair," her own voice was light with humour.

There was a pause, and then, "I imagine as someone from Fereldan like myself," Hawke's voice broke over them. She wondered for any a second where he was going. "Then you must be quite hairy under all that armour, Loghain."

As soon as the words left the Champions mouth, Varric almost choked on his own tongue, Dorians eyes widened, Solas shook his head beside her and her head snapped to look at the man in question. The former General who Hawke was baiting with a smile as if he'd just asked if the man liked the weather, and not about more personal matters.

Warden Loghain viewed the younger man, who was almost the same height and entirely too big for Lavellan to talk to without staining her neck a withered look. His blue eyes were bright amongst the darkness of his face and hair. "I would appreciate it if you refrained from asking such questions, Champion. About my body."

Hawke laughed, and Varric snorted. Lavellan found she was shaking her head also. At least the man hadn't jumped to let loose his sword and challenge the Mage to a duel.

"That's enough, I think," Lavellan stepped in, but there was a smile on her lips. "We ought to pay attention to the surroundings before we are ambushed and so, Varric," she raised her brows to make her point.

"As you say, Ma'am." He nodded and took Bianac and himself up into a higher ledge which ran alongside their path.

Hawke looked to her with his brows raised also. He seemed surprised that his friend would listen to her so easily. "They gave me the title inquisitor for a reason," she answered his unspoken question with a twisted, wary smile.

The Champion bowed his head. "Don't I know that to be true."

They walked in silence for a time after that. Herself at the front with Dorian to her left, and Solas to her right. Hawke behind and between them with Loghain taking up the rear Guard. She had entirely too many mages for two warriors to handle covering, but one glance at the blade on Hawke's staff lessens those worries. Dorian also had his corporal lightening blade staff if things got dicy.

"So," Hawke spoke up again. She tried not to tense her shoulders, the man meant well and was mostly harmless when it didn't come to his magic and threatening his friends. "You're from Tevinter."

"I presume that's aimed at me," Dorian smiled over his shoulder. His defences came slamming down around his eyes, she saw it. "I presume you do, as our dear Hobo friend Solas certainly would not get along there."

Solas made a noise in his throat which could have been an agreed snort, or grunt. Dorian glanced at him, but ultimately ignored it.

"Yes, you," Hawke didn't seem bothered by the chill in the mages words.

"If you ask if I'm a magister, I swear to all that is Holy, Black Divine or Sun burst I'll burn your beard off." Lavellan shot him a look, but Hawke burst out laughing. Warden Loghain tensed beside him, and shot him a glare at the noise.

"Champion, could you perhaps attempt to keep your voice down?" The former Hero ground out.

Hawke grinned at the large, much older man. Then turned his gaze back to Dorian. "I would love to see you try. But no, that's not why I asked. I was simply curious. I am sure Fenris would love to meet you."

"Ah, yes," Dorian looked a little bitter. "I have heard of him, as most have. The wolf which guards your side." Solas raised his head at that, and she looked him over once to see his lake blue eyes lit with curiousness before she turned her own eyes to the path ahead again. She wondered if Solas had seen Hawke's adventures in the fade...she imagined that had been something to see. Perhaps still was, as an echo. No, she still wasn't used to traversing the fade during sleep. Solas said it would get easier, with time and patience.

"I do not think he would take kindly to me," Dorian finished eventually.

"Not necessarily," Hawke kept the smile on his face. "If anything, I'd pay to see you dress him better. For as much as I love the man, his wears an awful lot of black."

Dorian's face was a picture. A mix of shock, and...hope? She knew Dorian loved to dress people up. Sera had almost gutted him for it. He obviously didn't know if Hawke was being sincere.

They didn't find out however, as Varric appeared through a bush above. "More Red Templars, heading this way!"

"How many?" Hawke shouted up.

"Around a dozen, could be more," Varric took up a more defensive stance from his higher ground.

"Warriors up front then, they will funnel down this path," she realised after her order that the only other warrior was Loghain. She was so used to shouting to Cassandra, or Bull or Blackwall. She looked back to him, her brows raised to her hair line as she grasped her shield high and pulled free her sword.

"Warden Loghain?" He nodded to her, and followed suit with his own shield and sword. He moved through the group until he was on her left.

The first three corrupted Templars ran at them from in front, as she'd suspected. They were too heavy to climb the hills in the terrain to their sides. Loghain motioned forward, and as they moved to engage, he turned his head to her.

She hardened her expression and turned to look back, briefly. Again having to raise her chin. She was used to people expecting her to be blown over by a small breeze, even when the heavy armour she wore was massive, and wholly metal. Her muscles were taunt from years of training. She would not faulter, and her shield was as strong as any other warrior.

He didn't do any of the usual things others tended to do when they first battled with her. He instead inclined his head, and turned back to the incoming threat. Not even trying to step slightly ahead in a false pretence of protecting her. She felt herself grin grimly.

They both launched into the incoming bodies, and she managed to crush one into the jagged wall of Earth to the side. From where she cut through the corrupted beings with precision - she had killed many of them the night Haven was raised from the ground, and many more afterwards.

She felt the tell-tale tingle of Solas's barrier brush over her skin, and looked to see the same blue hue covering the former hero. He fought well beside her, and not once did he accidentally swing his sword too close as Bull did, or step on her feet. He had years upon years more training and hard won experience than her, and it was oddly enchanting to see. She'd always been interested in sword play, even when her fellow Dalish tended to turn their nose up at it. She'd enjoyed listening to tales of Knights and those who broke lines of men with nothing more than their shield arm and will power.

As another wave of twisted red beings ran at them, the fight was cut short when bursts of lightening, force and ice both burst and exploded the remaining threats before they could even reach the line of warriors.

She lowered her shield slowly, and breathed heavily. Warden Loghain did the same, rose to his full height and gave her an approving once over and nod.

"You are very skilled, Warden Loghain," she found herself saying. She felt as if it would be rude of her to not point out that fact.

A smile tugged as one side of his lips, and he chuckled roughly. "Indeed. A compliment." She thought it took him a moment to process that, as if he didn't get many. Not anymore. "I have many more years of experience than you, as you would expect at my age but you, yourself are very skilled."

He didn't add: especially for an elf, or Dalish in general and she was thankful for that. She bowed her only a little in a sigh of respect. "Thank you." He returned the gesture.

"I hate those things," Varric complained as he holstered Bianca back over his shoulder. Hawke appeared to smack him on the shoulder good heartedly with a palm.

"Never a dull moment, is there?" The Champion laughed. There was a shadow to both their eyes however, a memory of red Lyrium and where it had come from.

"You don't know the half of it, Hawke. Oro there almost drags us into worse messes then the ones in Kirkwall, in fact, some of it is defiantly worse. The whole priest of Dumat and his dark-spawn dragon certainly takes the biscuit."

Once she was done checking everyone over for injuries visually, she turned her head to them and huffed. "I still have nightmares about loading those trebuchets," she admitted, and she wasn't sure if she managed to make her tone light enough to be a joke.

"I heard about that," Hawke looked to her. "You managed to escape Corypheus, his dragon and crash a mountain down on him? I'd like to hear about that."

"I'm sure Varric told you," she said, slowly, reluctantly.

"Yes, Varric here tells me a lot of things. Sometimes a lot of bull shit, but I'd like to hear it from you. Who was actually there."

She sheathed her weapons again, and watched as everyone got back into formation as they began walking again. A little quicker this time round. She shrugged as the Champions white eyes continued to stare at her. "There isn't much to say. His dragon cornered me, he sprouted some utter nonsense, tried to take this from me," she lifted her hand briefly. A few pairs of eyes turned to it. "Then lobbed me at a trebuchet, which was a really bad move on his part. I knocked it loose and ran, fell into a cavern which saved my life. No Divine intervention, I'm afraid," she sounded bitter even to her own ears at that last bit.

"Yeah," Varric shifted by Hawke's side. "Then walked through a snow storm for Maker knows how long with a sprained leg and dislocated shoulder."

"Hm," Hawke looked at her more closely. "That is something."

She shrugged again, uncomfortable and absently moved so that her hair hid the scars at her neck more. "It had to be done."

"That doesn't mean it's not an entirely amazing feat!" Dorian added his two sent to the conversation then. She shot him a look.

They fell into silence again after that and thankfully made some good ground back in the direction of the town. They'd stay just outside its border to keep from running into the other wardens though. Nobody seemed to want the inquisitor to feel more uncomfortable than she already did so the quiet remained for awhile.

Hawke didn't seem to get that memo though, as he moved to walk closer to her. Loghain had ended up at the back of their pack again, with Solas at her right side. Sometimes she still blushed when she looked at him, a strange habit for someone so stonic as her but she could not forget the kiss, or the way she seemed drawn to wherever he was.

"You're Dalish?" He offered.

Solas made another noise in his throat. She found he was doing than more often than not that day. Like he wanted to say something but held back. That was strange, he usually loved to speak his mind - but perhaps he was trying to be civil about the people who raised her. A look at him told her she might be right and a odd warmth filled her.

She looked up at Hawke, trying to shake her unease from before and offer up a friendly expression. "Yes," she breathed.

"Did the markings give her away?" Dorian smiled from in front of them. She kept an eye on him, all the same, he usually walked straight into bandits.

Hawke shrugged. "I admit, I don't know much about your people. Sure, I met the clan on top of the mountain and Merril told me some stories."

"Daisy still with Carver?" Varric interrupted quickly.

Hawke nodded. "Yes, though they're apart at the minute." The Campion paused to think. "She's still helping the elves while, well, my brother is far away from... This shit." Varric nodded at the information.

"The clan on Sundermount," Loghain spoke up. Hawke turned to look at him. "It was clan Sabrae, am I correct?"

"That would be right," Hawke lifted his head. "The clan of the Hero of Fereldan. Merril knew her when they were younger, obviously. I met the Antivan Assassin there too."

Loghain raised an eye brow at that.

"It's a good job he didn't flirt too much. Fenris nearly burst he was so red," Varric added, helpfully.

"The crow is attached to the Hero of Fereldan. He would not have strayed from her side." Loghain sounded oddly sure of that. She supposed if you faced a blight together and fought an arch-demon with one another then you would be quite sure of a few things about the people with you.

Lavellan thought for a moment. "Why did they remain on the mountain for so long? It's dangerous for any clan to linger in one place."

"They lost their Halla." Hawke explained, but he did not understand the severity of it.

She sucked in a hissed breath and Solas looked to her. "That is bad," she said. "The Halla are everything to a clan. They offer both a symbol, and assist a clan in many ways from spirituality, to travel and food."

Hawke nodded, taking in the information. "That was probably why Merril was so upset over it," he agreed.

"I do hope they find a way to move on," she looked down, offered a silent prayer for the clan even thought she often did not evoke the creators.

As the ground changed terrain, they were able to split apart slightly and widen their party stance. Warden Loghain moved up more so that he was behind her and to her left.

"You are a lot like her," he said, after another patch of quiet.

Lavellan felt her eyes lift to his. "Who?" She asked, confused.

"The Hero of Fereldan," he said, and he had a wistful look as he mention the woman.

Solas mumbled something to her side. "Just because they are both of the Dales, and are Elves, does not mean they are alike."

Lavellan was slightly shocked at Solas' words, but the Warden Loghain simply looked him over with a measured glance. "I meant no offence, Mage."

"Ah, I am glad that you see me more for my magic then my pointed ears," Solas was being oddly harsh and she placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Ir, Abelas, Lethallan," he offered, almost sheepishly. He was trying to wrap his head around her world, at least and not look on it with so much judgement. He still seemed to get mixed up with those elves and us elves sometimes though. It often confused her how he distanced himself so much from the Dalish, even the city elves. Who were his people?

She gave him a smile. Then turned back to the former hero and general. "There is no offence. I confess, it is a compliment which far supersedes myself to be compared to the Hero of Fereldan."

Warden Loghain placed his hands behind his back and thought for a moment. "Warden Mahariel was a talented sword master, also. A trait I must admit I have not seen amongst the Dalish before. It was what caught many eye at the battle of Ostagard," his voice dropped a little at that.

When his sharp blue eyes turned to her face again, she smiled. "I know. I was influenced by her, myself."

He nodded his head at that information, a small smile on his lips. "I am sure she would be pleased to know if that."

"Do you know her well?" Dorian asked. "When word spread of the Hero of Fereldan to tevinter, many were a flutter about the hero being..er, well, an elf who gained title and fame."

Loghains face darkened a little at that, and Solas muttered, "Of course they were."

"She bested him in a duel," Varric offered up. "I am sure the man knows her well enough. They did fight a Blight together."

"Now I can not claim any ownership of that," the former hero spoke up, and he sounded more like a General than when they'd first met in the cave. "I joined when most of the work had already been completely by her hand, and while I continually placed obstacles in her path." He sounded almost saddened by the fact, but she could tell he cared about the warden a great deal. She smiled at that, a little. He was proud of her.

"And yes," he continued, a chuckle in his eye. "She did best me, then spared my life and lifted Fereldan from a hole I had dug."

"The point being," he looked to her. "I have faith that you will live up the title the people have placed upon you."

Her eyes widened. Well, that was certainly unexpected.

"You've only known her a short time," Hawke smiled, but his eyes were alight. He'd taken a shine to her. She suddenly felt out of her depth with all the compliments, or maybe it was more responsibility?

"Yes, but Hearon would approve, and so do I," she wondered if he knew he'd said the Wardens name, and not her title. His eyes warmed as if in a memory, and his harsh face softened.

"She is defiantly an incredible woman," she said, at last. From his description and the way he remembered her were anything to go by.

"Yes, she is," he smiled.

One day, she hoped to meet the woman who had finally inspired her to take up the sword after she'd returned from her capture and not known how to carry on in her life the way she had before.

The trip back to Skyhold was just as eventful, but she found a determination settle in her spine.

The beginnings of a Champion.


End file.
